It was late afternoon when he sank to the ground beside Blackmane. Tatum and Alveye were seated close by with their knees pulled up and foreheads resting on their arms. Harlan and Astin were supervising repairs. The merchants and farmers had come to lend a hand with the labour.
‘You should get those cuts looked at,’ Roul told Blackmane.
‘Later.’ Which meant he would do no such thing.
Roul allowed himself one minute of rest, then got to his feet and went back to work. Blackmane followed.
The pair were halfway through clearing a pile of rubble when someone called Roul’s name. He turned, blowing dust from his nostrils as he looked around.
King Becket was on horseback, a guard flanking him. He dismounted and gestured to Roul. ‘Walk with me.’
Roul exchanged a look with Blackmane before following the king. Falling into step with Becket, he said, ‘Don’t worry. I’m leaving.’
The king did not appear to hear him. He was too busy surveying the damage. ‘Their army had a proper go at it.’
Roul followed his gaze to a large hole in the wall. ‘They did, but they didn’t succeed.’
‘The warden tells me you had a part in that.’
‘A very small part.’
Becket was silent a moment. ‘This is not your kingdom, yet you continue to fight as if it were.’
Roul gestured to the people behind him. ‘It’stheirkingdom, their home. I fought for them.’
‘What about me?’ Becket asked. ‘Did you fight for me also?’
Roul frowned. ‘Yes, actually. Though I don’t expect you to believe that.’
‘And why would you fight for me?’
Roul considered his answer. ‘Because I think you might be the best king Chadora has ever had, and these people deserve a good king.’
Becket stopped walking and turned to him. ‘I am inclined to think you mean that.’ He studied Roul for a long moment. ‘I initially thought you kept me alive in hope that I might change my opinion of you. I see now that I was wrong. You did it for them, knowing I would not forgive you.’
Roul wiped a dusty hand down his face. ‘I don’t need your forgiveness. I just need you to be the leader these people deserve.’
The king watched the work going on around them, not speaking for some time. ‘I would like to invite you to stay.’
Roul crossed his arms and squinted. ‘I don’t understand. Stay where?’
‘Here in Chadora.’ Becket nodded thoughtfully. ‘If a peasant can push his own needs and desires aside for the greater good, then certainly a king can. I trust you to take care of these men. And rightly or wrongly, I trust you will take care of me also, so long as I continue to be the leader they deserve.’ He met Roul’s eyes once more. ‘And since I intend to be that man for the entirety of my reign, I cannot foresee any problems between us.’
Roul was genuinely speechless.
‘Your debt with my mother is paid. So if she comes to you with instructions to kill me, I expect you to tell herno.’ There was a hint of humour in his eyes.
Roul did not trust his comprehension in that moment. ‘So I’m clear, you’re inviting me to stay here in Chadora, and you’re just going to ignore that flicker of anger that rises every time you lay eyes on me?’
The young king’s face turned serious. ‘It is possible that my anger might have been somewhat misdirected.’
Roul almost fell over at that admission. ‘Misdirected how? I shot the arrow that killed your father. That hasn’t changed.’
‘You did.’ Pain flashed on Becket’s face. ‘And I did not stop you.’
Now Roul was completely confused.
‘You know I found the letter you wrote to my mother agreeing to her plan,’ Becket continued. ‘What you do not know iswhenI found it.’
